Best Damnit Poems
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
I find it boring all the time.
It wasn't good in Shakespeare's hands,
No rhyming poet understands,
No Keats or Shelly, Byron, Pope,
Could find the poetry to cope
With wonders of the universe,
For that they should have tried Free Verse!
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
It seems so foolish all the time.
From Petrach through to here and now,
All rhyming works I'll disavow.
I want to drown inside the sound
of ee cummings, Ezra Pound,
Please keep me from those dreadful swines
Who choose to worship Gilbert's lines.
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
It's bell like ring should be a crime.
It's bad in English, German, French,
It leaves a horrid musty stench
And as for meter I'll just say,
That all blank verse is SO passé.
Unless your work's unrhymed and free
Your soul contains no poetry.
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
I will not hear it any time.
No Limericks shall pass my ears,
I've kept them out for years and years.
I've never heard a single word
Of Mother Goose, it's all absurd.
I only read free verse and prose
For all the rest, I hold my nose.
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
A sort of ancient worthless slime.
You cannot write constrained by rules,
The last resort of worthless fools.
Please stand by me on hallowed soil,
Where all the greatest writers toil --
Freeversing poets to a man,
Let's issue form a formal ban!
I do not like your perfect rhyme,
I can't believe it is sublime.
Now damnit! What is that you say?
Your words and meanings start to play -
I feel the meter in my bones,
Like music by the Rolling Stones!
It's not free verse it's so much more,
Your verse is like a Mozart score!
Ah YES, I LOVE your perfect rhyme!
I want to hear it all the time,
Bring Shakespeare, Shelley, Byron, Keats
With all their forms and special treats;
And after them I think I'll cope,
With Hilaire Belloc, Nash and Pope.
I've been so blind I did not see
That rhyme and flow are poetry!
All the words and truth I spoke was cause I was trying to bring hope to you. It was never to play games. Yet, a game has started. I can see all the impossible truths from deep inside of you. That could fall like rain dropping or like the morning dew, Just coming over me and you.
You have that something about you. That something that screamed out loud to me, and will not let my mind just be. It calls out I will destroy you like your no body.
That right there intrigues me so. I have to see if it was your soul calling out to me. As I dream of far of places, or is it the universe threating me with darkness that i can not have.
For you see I am not scared of pain, I am scared of the plain, the normal everyday, the just same old same.
I want and need the wildfires burning all around and to be standing on scorched ground. Picking embers from our feet cause god damnit you ignite me. Not because of your pretty face, But because what you feel and say to me. But then at the same you only barely know my name.
1O. Shut your trap to avoid any flap
9. Do not be overly fraught by "conventional thought" (dinosaurism)
8. Know how to deal with Soylent Green People
7. Stuff your ideas and different views-tip toe on the softest of shoes
6. Paperwork and procedure (I know) one can't bumble...doing so will make ya really humble
5. That being said, just go with the herd...bite your tongue people! Don't say a word!
4. Don't think too much-like we did...that special group without computers as a kid
3. If number four applies to you, don't question the almightly computer (as I sometimes do)
2. Clever, innovative, challenging, and problematic...yes, DAMNIT!, sometimes it pays to be
erratic
1. You are not a weirdo, strange, or dumb...just follow the status-quo, and get the **** done
Ironic, yes; I am able to say this over the "net". Contradictory, sure; technology is a
menacing lure. Maybe good 'ol Ray Bradbury was right on the money, and this is all pretty
darn funny. Farenhieght 451, I think your day may come. RIP books and innovation.
Jose does the work that the homeless wouldn’t
Yet they blame him for stealing their opportunities
When they wouldn’t even dream of taking opportunities
When they had millions of chances to
Pancho dreams Big
Bigger than the Rich White Boys with Everything
Because the White Boy already has what Pancho wants
And doesn’t realize how good it is until Pancho has it
Fickle, fickle Man
These people expect us to Work Hard so they can Play Easy
But once we rise up, it’s snapped shut, treasures, equality
They end up taking it all away just to complain about how bad they have it
Why is it that I’m working a crappy job for minimum wage
But Sally gets an internship right away, same grades, same teachers,
Except I go to a minority dominated intercity school while she lives in the Foothills
But Sally has Pretty Blue Eyes and Long Blonde Hair, "All American Beauty"
Look at my skin, THIS is Beautiful, to me
Golden Yellow Brown Caramel
They call it Burnt Sugar, but I call it Perfect
Asiática Vietnamita Chicana Chica Fresa Señorita
Multi-racial Mutt and I don't give a Damn
Dark hair, dark eyes, the darkest kind of electric fury
I’m American too, Damnit
Do you have the audacity to say that color makes a difference?
Discriminate me again, I dare
You! come on, come ON
Keep on pretending like your giving me a chance with Affirmative Action
Well Affirm this
I don't want your pity, or redemption
I want EQUALITY, once and for all
Not a cheap imiation of it
What the Hell are you Afraid of?!
Discriminate against me again
And I’ll show you what being American is all about
Come On, DAMNIT!
I'll bring it H A R D, with everything I have
I want to show racist America what I got
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXIV
IF you pull that long martyred face
While brake-disks hiss howl metal-doors click-clutch-cluck on railway
No Tokyo masks nor hand darts to protect the homefront populace
Breeding grounds Underground cooking love-cold soup bacteriae
If you pull that damnit I've-caught-it again long distressed face
Between fleeing Metro stations unable to turn your face away
Holding breath in terror fumigating in deadly solipsistic silence
Which year's vaccination failed to mutate and antidotes convey
If you pull that long contorted villified face
Sandwiched between leaking semen sweat coughing sonorous spray
Bacteria exploding tout azimut in jolting standing wool-crammed space
Smiles stuck in smart-phones fingers deftly messaging con-art display
If you then pull that fully-drenched long face
Face to face with guys who repress no more pent-up phlegm volley
Adding to that splash short staccato sharp poop-stench promise
Who nurses not nor lodges the germinating common denominator heir
Yet if you must pull that long innoculated face
Remember the doctor the nurse the pharmacist all give willing way
To the vast multi-national over/under the counter panacea commerce
To keep the influenza germ indoors at soaring fever pitch - Hurray !
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 25, 2019
Ignore my friend, ignore
work, work, work, hard,
40 hours to the corp,
20 hours to the family
and 40 to the drugs
you house is so nice
your car is better
40 to the corp
ignore the abuse,
slave labor in another country....
the blood, sweat, and tears....
You didnt do it, its the CEO
who makes those decisions.
Lobbyists supporting the war
wow, the profits, bonus for all..
Evil, abuse, pollution, war.
Make that check and run home.
20 to the family
Oh my beautiful children,
that hate me, but at least their fed well.
They dont value me, such stupid children
I work so hard for them,
My wife who doesnt like sex,
does that mean she doesnt love me?
I like it when we pretend,
we actually get along then,
please pretend some more,
that we love each other, please.
40 to the drugs
Television, Sports, video games, high fructose corn syrup,
chlorinated, flouridated water tastes so nice.
Caffiene, sugar, alcohol, nicotine
I still can't cope, anybody got some dope?
Damnit where is that rope?
The pharmacy can cure your pain,
and if not we can shock your brain.
This is my culture. I am sad for it, but am addicted to it.
I’m offended by ‘ski slope,’
they should be ‘ski inclines,’
they’re insulting Asian people,
have those fools lost their minds?
I’m offender by ‘Black’ Russians,
when made by pale people,
I’m offended by ‘cow’ boys,
for excluding the bulls!
I’m offended by those who will
mock diversity,
the world would be much better off
if more folks thought like me!
I’m offended by gun owners
who protect their own lives,
it’s unfair that they show such strength,
when I can’t protect mine!
I’m offended some gay people
realize they’re really straight,
why did we even give them choice
if they were going that way?
I’m offended by fast food joints
that serve children French fries,
and when they change to apple slices
I’m offended my kids cry!
I’m offended by the government,
oh wait—now we’re in charge?
Then I hate the fools who protest us,
who do they think they are?!
I’m offended by those women
who take their husband’s name,
but happy when husbands take hers,
that just makes my whole day.
I’m offended when I hear people
say judge by ‘what’s inside,’
don’t these fools know it’s bigotry
to ignore someone’s hide?
I’m mad at those not offended,
don’t they know it’s currency?
And that there isn’t a person
more offended than me?
I take offense at the right things,
and that must make me rich,
poor folks always hate their betters,
that’s why they moan and b--ch!
Do not tell me how the world works
when I want things mended,
you're why we have no utopia,
damnit, I’m offended!
I'm a blue collar worker who works outdoors
and I'm also required to wear a hard hat all day.
My exposed skin and face tan at a very fast pace,
but beneath that hard hat, absolutely no way.
The last time I went bandanna free,
someone got distracted, lost their footing and tripped.
All I heard as I fled the scene was, "Did you see that human Q-tip?"
In addition to speaking in rhyme, I dress in black all the time
but that shouldn't reflect upon my personality.
I just claim not to be so great when I attempt to color coordinate
but the simple truth is black is safe and I'm just lazy.
I live the single lifestyle and by that I simply mean that I have chosen to live alone.
I enjoy True Solitude, so I don't share living quarters very well.
My home has to be My Home.
I keep mostly to myself but that shouldn't suggest that I can't be the life of the party.
Back in my day I wore many a lampshade.
Now I've calmed down. I don't party too hearty.
Well, enough about me. What about you?
What are your interests, your passions?
What do You like to do?
Who knows where this might go or how it might end.
At the very least, I Hope to find A Real and True Friend.
Oh yeah, one last thing I need to mention to you.
A little sex from you also would be very nice too.
I was doing very well. I was doing just fine
and then I had to blow it with the very last line.
Am I right ladies? Damnit!
****************************************************************************
Please do not respond to the above ad ladies. It is now null and void. I pretty much live the
life of a hermit these days.
****************************************************************************
What does it mean
To be brave?
I ask myself this as I cascade
Coffee, pour the coffee
Overloading vacant round things
With handles that are supposed to make it easier
Make it so much more easier.. Then it seems
Supposedly
Burning tabletops with the scorching ferocity
Of eyes denied, deny, denied
of wisdom, unlocked
Held in each definite drop
Itsrighthereinfrontofmyface déjà vu
Knowing but unwilling to stop it
Gushing valor into a cup
Bravery
Does it mean to face enemies in darkened doorways?
Elements of surprise, tears in eyes, rapture of the hypnotized
Knifes in the back, trap door of the
Mind, spellbound between useless murmurs and
Unkempt promises of Senators
We no longer have Heroes
But villains dressed in capes and leggings with over drama
Tic
Twitches of false advertisement and guzzled gas prices
No, no, damnit
Keep pouring the damn coffee
Bravery
Does it mean, definition, what does it mean?
Exactly, tell me, really…
While you trace lines and scheme scatter plots
and talk like you know
What your talking about
Bossing me around like,
Pour the coffee, please, Mami
Bossing me around like
Stop, pushing, me, around
Being an idiot and risking it all for a spotlight
15 minutes, in light, in a spot
For what? Show off
I give bad advice, don’t listen
Stop listening, to salvation
I keep contemplating things that really have no meaning
Because nobody is
Brave, now-a-days
Bravery is knowingly stepping up to something that cannot be
Avoided, like a typhoon of endangerment without running
From the consequence
And knowing when to stop
Rushing excuses into Mugs
*Holly (Vault Dweller)*
Hey bartender,
Who's that girl over there,
The one nursing the whiskey in the corner,
She has that press hat one that makes her look...strangely debonair.
*Bartender*
That'll be our little Ms. Piper Wright,
She runs the local paper,
Spends all day looking for a story then types the rest of the night,
Bit standoffish at first but quite the looker.
*Holly*
Hahah I'll say,
Just look at that red trench-coat and suit,
And that piercing stare,
Comes off tart as a mutfruit,
But it just bounces right off her wavy hair,
And goooosssh those lips,
Their silky sheen betrays the steel of her gun,
Dangling from her buxom hips,
Armed with an unabashed tongue,
Clearly her deadliest weapon,
Complimenting her feisty spirit perfectly preserved in an hourglass figure both fair and young,
Fully stocked with an arsenal of wisecracks, worthy armaments for free speech's most sensuous bastion,
Avid journalistic endeavors personify her inquisitive nature,
Reporting the most controversial conspiracy or the latest Publick Occurrences,
With jaw-dropping headlines fueled by her insatiable determination not even the mayor can escape her snooping typewriter,
How this vixen has eluded both the aging of time and voraciousness of lovers is beyond me,
And I think I'm allllmost drunk enough to go over and talk to her,
Should only take me another couple of rounds before I'll have the guts to...ah who am I kidding,
I'm over 200 years old there's no way she'd ever go for a pre-war relic regardless of who well preserved.
*Bartender*
News flash buddy, she's single,
Read today's headlines and you might find the subtle hints,
Listen to her playful comments of life and lust weaved in-between the innocuous babble,
The words may take their place in the articles but her true message is hidden underneath the paper's yellow tint,
She's young and lookin for love just the rest of us here in the Wasteland,
So what've you got to loose hotshot go get her,
Or do you need another round on the house give you the upper hand?
*Holly*
Well damnit bartender one more round it is,
If you don't from her till morning it'll be one of two things,
Either I've been utterly rejected and lying in a ditch,
Or I'll be too busy ignoring the world trying to make her mine.
here I am
i'm pissed again
let others control my emotions
once more
damnit
be the bigger person
but i just joined a weight loss program
be the grown up, girlfriend
just another test
oh ya thanks
thanks a bunch
for another test
hug a tree
bite your tongue
zip your lip
spill your milk
just don't be a witch
for the lack of a more suitable word
Can’t you see?
When you shove past me
In your eyes
For a moment
I don’t exist
Drowning in a mist
Of oblivion
It’s a crime
To witness
You having a jolly time
Having a toast
To life
Once again
Ignore my presence
Continue to
Walk through me
As though I’m a despondent ghost
This occurs with such frequency
Think I’m numb to the pain?
No damnit, I have feelings
I’m somebody too!
Spirit
surfer
You were there,
without a care,
when Mars we came to
try,
Spirit surfers of
the solar wind,
lets find some
animals to try,
oh it was half a
million years ago,
time and space it
was no barrier,
transported by the
thought 2 go,
no pain or emotion
carrier,
the air and sea did
not impede,
our landing on the
planet,
still water and the
air was sweet,
and animals
god-damnit!
Of Dinasoars there
was a plentitude,
and flying leather
birds,
we'd spring into
these bodies crude,
and feel 2 much 4
words?
We felt the pain and
suffering,
encased in one that
died,
the Predators would
tear and feast,
till MY spirit
jumped aside!
Bloodlust came with
a Predator,
when I invested him,
animal instinct gets
in the way,
control battles they
were grim !
Heavens crashed Mars
got smashed,
all life forms died
that day,
off to the next
planet we dashed ,
the Earth had
animals hey:}
Don Johnson
how the body got its
spirit controller
originally?
I cant sleep,
repititions play over in my mind,
the first time he hit me,
the night he held me down and raped me,
laughing at my cries of pain,
the last time he beat me,
when I finally made him leave;
No, when my best friend made him leave.
I stood cowering, clinging to my sons small body,
terrified across the room,
his eyes could cut me like razor blades.
Last week I went to the grocery store,
I clung to my fiances sleeve like a lost child,
My eyes darted down every aisle,
for ghosts that were 300 miles away.
An old man, brittle, bumped into me,
grabbing hold my shoulders,
so neither of us would plummet to the hard flood,
he aplogized, I mumbled and turned quickly,
trying to steady shaking hands,
forcing air into lungs that begged to scream,
gluing still boots that begged to run.
I look forward to blackout exhaustion,
the fear of nightmares and flashbacks,
holds knives to the throat of my insomnia.
I delete my social media,
then sneak onto my grandmothers,
type in his name and see his spiteful words,
I know every angry letter is typed at me,
I fear his plotting,
I fear his eyes will see me through hidden screens,
He will find me, his fists will come.
Handfuls of hair dragging me to my knees,
to smack and punch my cheeks.
Tight fingers on my throat,
squeezing as I gasp to breathe,
clawing at his hands,
he places the pillow over my face.
I panic and scream inside my mind,
breathe god damnit, breathe.
The air is so thin, I am dizzy,
and so I lie still, slowly coming to a shallow breath.
Breathe very slowly, not too deeply,
put your claws away, he removes the pillow,
my tears stain the sheets.
OMG! What do you mean that
There's no service at this time?
Well my provider better be ready,
To pay a pretty penny or a dime.
At least they were kind enough,
To send a quick text to let me know.
That they need a few more hours to
Try and restore my lost bloodflow.
Well what the hell do they expect me
To do, now that I'm left all alone?
I mean, no TV, no internet, no music ...
Does life go on as it's been known?
Now I'm trying to search my memory,
Of how we all survived before these days.
Whether battling dungeons and dragons,
Or being a shortstop making plays.
So as I'm forced to stop surfing my digital waves,
I'll turn back the clock and go 'old-school'.
Where opening a book and using a pen & paper,
May substitute for interaction and be new fuel.
This might lead to more face-to-face meets,
Even those I'd rather avoid.
As my options seem limited, but damnit,
I can't be more annoyed!
Yet here I sit confessing my anger,
Feeling inept to accomplish anything more.
While I try to find some creativity,
Awaiting the nets return, just as before.